


Misery Is The Enemy

by xGalaxy_Burstx



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, tw_alcoholism, tw_depression, tw_explicitlanguage, tw_isolation, tw_selfharm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xGalaxy_Burstx/pseuds/xGalaxy_Burstx
Summary: Now in his adolescent years, Dib suffers from alcoholism, cutting, depression, and isolation. He's too tired to deal with anything and is unmotivated. When he nearly dies from alcohol poisoning, Zim can't leave the human's side.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Mentions of cutting and alcohol, explicit language

Chapter 1  
Dib parks in the driveway of his house and steps out of his car. He mutters inaudibly and trudges into his house to his bedroom. The scrawny teen slams his door and throws himself on his bed.  
“Fucking stupid ass space roach.” He mumbles, lazily reaching his lower bedside table shelf and opening his mini fridge. He pulls out a half empty bottle of straight liquor. “I fucking hate everything.” Dib pops open the bottle and chugs it, his breath fogging up his round glasses. “Fuck everything.” He says with a heavy, drawn out sigh. He looks at his skinny arms. The scars could be worse. No one even notices them -- not that he’s looking for attention, but it’d be nice if someone actually cared about his well being. He averts his gaze to the pocket knife on his bedside table. No, He says to himself. I can’t keep doing this to myself. He debates with himself for a few moments, then turns to face the wall. He pulls a blanket over his head and falls asleep, feeling tired and lazy. The glass liquor bottle is still beside him, but he couldn’t care less. Everyone couldn’t care less. His dad’s never around to check on him, and Gaz sure as hell doesn’t enter his room unless she’s mad or wants something. Dib sleeps through the rest of the day, the night that follows, and until late in the afternoon. His phone pings, causing Dib to slowly open his eyes. He notices that he’s still wearing his glasses, even though they’re askew.  
“Shit.” Dib murmurs, swiping up. He opens an email from his online Hi Skool administrator.  
Dib Membrane,  
I am sending this email to inform you that you have been absent for all of your classes today. Your teachers have decided to let you make up your work this coming weekend, but you must not miss another day without a proper excuse. We do not tolerate the act of skipping your academic nor elective classes, even if this isn’t in-person education. Thank you for your cooperation. Regards,  
Mrs. Threshborne  
Dib rolls his eyes as he finishes reading and turns off his phone.  
“Hm.” He says, forcing himself to sit up. “Well, since I’m a lazy ass fuck, I guess I’ll just binge Mysterious Mysteries.” Dib gets his laptop and opens it, pulling up YouTube. He clicks on a video and begins watching until…  
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK  
Dib grumbles under his breath and slams his laptop shut, proceeding to storm to his front door. He opens it angrily.  
“What?” He demands. Zim is at the door. He looks very confused.  
“Dib-beast, you look awful.” The Irken comments, not untruthfully. Dib did, indeed, look… rough. His scythe like hair drooped over his glasses, his glasses are askew, shirt wrinkled, and pale skin. Dib crosses his arms.  
“Thanks.” Dib replies sarcastically.  
“That wasn’t a compliment, Dib-stink.” Zim says.  
“I know.” Dib huffs. “It’s called sarcasm, space roach.” Zim scowls.  
“Do not address the mighty Zim like a stupid worm Earth baby!” The tiny alien yells, blushing a light shade of blue.  
“I can do whatever the hell I want Zim. Piss off.” Dib yells back, his hazel eyes narrowed. The Irken simply blows a raspberry and storms off. Dib exhales sharply, slams the door, then returns to his bedroom. He glances at the liquor like he did the night before.  
“Fuck it.” Dib says, grabbing the bottle and chugging the rest of it down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> Mentions of self-harm/cutting, mentions of alcoholism/hangovers, and strong use of profanity.

Dib slowly opens his eyes and groans, the pain of a migraine pulsing in his head. "Shit." He murmurs, reaching for his glasses. He puts them on and stares at the ceiling. He glances at the empty liquor bottle and splatters of blood on the sheets beside him. "Why am I like this?" He exhales slowly and sits up, only making his migraine worse. He slips on a hoodie to cover his fresh cuts. Not that he has to - it's unlikely that anyone would be downstairs in the kitchen at this time, but it’s better to cover up than get called out by his father -- or even worse, Gaz. Dib makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen. “Good morning, son.” Professor Membrane greets, taking a sip of his usual morning brew coffee. Dib raises his hand lazily in response. “Morning, dad.” the scrawny teen croaks, opening a cabinet and grabbing a jar of honey. Membrane watches curiously as his son squeezes some honey onto a spoon. “Dib, are you feeling okay?” the professor asks, raising an eyebrow in concern. Dib eats the honey off of the spoon and rests his arms on the white granite island. “Yeah.” Dib says flatly. Membrane frowns underneath the collar of his lab coat. He knew a lot of science, and curing a hangover with honey was one of the most basic facts he knew. However, he doesn’t ask. He mentally tells himself to keep an eye on his son. \------------------------- A few hours later, Dib lifts his head from his pillow, awoken by a knock at his bedroom door. The teen quickly stuffs the empty liquor bottle and blood-crusted pocket knife out of sight and pushes his drooping scythe shaped hair out of his face. It was looking a bit more like his father’s now. “It’s open.” Dib says in response to the light knocking on his bedroom door. He watches as his door opens slowly and reveals his father. “Son,” Membrane walks further into the room and sits on the plush bed beside Dib. “Hm?” Dib murmurs, unconsciously nibbling his black painted nails. Membrane lets out a drawn-out sigh. “I’m putting you in therapy.” the professor says quickly, giving his son a sad look. Dib slowly pulls his hands away from his mouth and looks into his father’s eyes in spite of his blue goggles. His hazel eyes widen behind his round glasses. “...what?” Dib mutters, his voice almost gone. “Why?” Membrane shakes his head and rests his gloved, robotic hands on his lap. “Son, I’ve been analyzing you closely.” Membrane explains, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You’re obviously troubled and struggling with your mental health. I think it’s for the best that you receive consistent support and help.” Dib bites his lower lip a bit too hard. A sliver of metallic-tasting blood forms on his lip. “I’m fine, dad.” Dib argues, his voice low. “I can deal with my problems on my own.” Membrane places one of his large hands gently on his son’s small shoulder. Dib averts his gaze back to his dad. “No, Dib. You’re not handling things well at all.” Membrane says in a soft tone, careful not to upset or anger his sensitive son. “Mm. Whatever you say.” Dib murmurs, rolling his eyes. Professor Membrane lifts himself from Dib’s bed and proceeds to the door. He puts a hand on the cold doorknob, then turns to face his son. “Dib, I don’t want you drinking.” And with that, the professor exits Dib’s bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Dib sitting on his bed, eyes widened in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you all off on a cliffhanger.  
> Comments are appreciated and I read all of them!  
> :)


End file.
